


Culmination

by youcouldmakealife



Series: Impaired Judgment (and other excuses) [137]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, YCMAL 'verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:28:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29615700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: “Your phone was about to go crazy and I need to tell you this before someone else does,” Bryce says, kneeling in front of him like he did last night, clean pressed suit and earnest eyes. “I’ve gotta sign papers still but—”“You’re going somewhere,” Jared says.
Relationships: OMC/OMC
Series: Impaired Judgment (and other excuses) [137]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/849798
Comments: 106
Kudos: 440





	Culmination

It’s all of twenty four hours after Summers comes to town that Bryce literally comes jogging in the door, yelling, “J?” like Jared isn’t sitting on the couch ten feet away from him half-watching the news. One nice thing about living in Vancouver is he doesn’t have to listen to the fucking UCP. “J, turn off your phone.”

“What?” Jared asks.

“Turn off your phone right now,” Bryce says. “And the TV.”

Jared blinks, then turns off the TV, powers his phone off. “Are we being surveilled?” he jokes.

“Your phone was about to go crazy and I need to tell you this before someone else does,” Bryce says, kneeling in front of him like he did last night, clean pressed suit and earnest eyes. “I’ve gotta sign papers still but—”

“You’re going somewhere,” Jared says.

“I’m going somewhere,” Bryce says.

“Please tell me it’s a Western Conference team,” Jared says.

“It is,” Bryce says. 

“If it’s Edmonton I’m going to be—” Jared says.

Bryce kisses him. “Shut up for a second,” he says.

Jared scowls, but does. 

“Three teams on my list,” Bryce says. “They picked one of them.”

“They would have to if you’ve been traded, unless you waived your NTC,” Jared says. “You know I know all of this, stop being all weird and cryptic and—”

“I told them it was Tampa or Edmonton or Vancouver,” Bryce says. 

“They said no to Edmonton and Vancouver,” Jared guesses. Easy guess. “Tampa’s already over the cap.”

“Tampa’s over the cap,” Bryce says. “And they were desperate to shed salary so they could re-sign Tanner before someone bit and offer-sheeted him and they gave Calgary Schlitz and Barbieri and a second for me.”

“You just said it was a Western Conference team,” Jared says numbly. Tampa is Bryce’s best chance for a Cup, but it’s also about as far from Vancouver as you can get.

“Tampa can’t afford to keep me,” Bryce says. “Which is why Vancouver offered Tampa a first, a third, and a goalie prospect because Summers told Foster, strictly off the record, I’d re-sign in a heartbeat when my term was up and I’d give them a significant hometown discount when I did as long as my husband was still in the Canucks line-up when that time came. Do not fucking tell anyone that last part, not even your parents or my mom.”

Summers was _absolutely_ not allowed to do that and now Jared knows exactly why Bryce was being hush hush. What they did was unethical and against NHL rules and the league would probably come down hard on Tampa and Vancouver and Summers if they found out about it. And that’s just Summers telling them that, the part about Bryce’s roster spot being contingent on Jared staying on the roster is probably also super not allowed, not that Jared’s a lawyer. 

Jared beams at Bryce.

Bryce beams back.

“I can’t believe I made you this Machiavellian,” Jared says.

He’s so proud.

“I have no idea what that word means, babe,” Bryce says solemnly. 

Jared leans forward to knock his forehead against Bryce’s. “I mean I made you kind of ruthless,” he says.

“That was mostly Summers,” Bryce says. “But I wasn’t above — stuff.”

“Stuff?” Jared asks.

“They weren’t really — big on moving me at first,” Bryce says. “Like, even with the media shit and all, I’m on a deal that was pretty normal then but cheap now and they figured my play was back on track so like, may as well wait, see if they could get more for me next season at the trade deadline or throw me at someone before I was a UFA. So I maybe like, held out until my NTC kicked in and then mentioned that my trade value was higher right now because I hadn’t come out yet and I was considering it.”

“You’re not considering it,” Jared says. If Bryce was even remotely considering it, Jared would have caught on.

Bryce shakes his head. “Not to media,” he says. “I feel like — probably some of the Canucks are going to figure out we’re together?”

“Probably,” Jared says. Almost definitely. 

“I can deal with that,” Bryce says. “I just. I bluffed. They took the bluff.”

“Ruthless,” Jared says admiringly. 

“Learnt from the best,” Bryce says, that bright beautiful grin finally back on his face

They're both smiling too hard for the kiss to be any good but Jared doesn't give a fuck, he hauls him in, tastes Bryce’s smile against his own, feeling like he can breathe easily for the first time in months.

*

As much as ‘actually on the same team now’ calls for some terrific celebratory sex, it’s going to have to wait. Bryce has papers to sign. They have people to talk to. They are grown ass adults who cannot have celebratory sex.

They may be some celebratory making out, however, before Jared unilaterally decides this.

Bryce pouts at him.

“Business,” Jared says. “Business first. You need to make a good first impression with your new team.”

Bryce beams at him, instantly distracted from his sulk — it’s effective, but it won’t last as far as distractions go, Jared assumes. They do the adult thing and take hands out from under shirts and pants — it was getting precariously close to celebratory sex before Jared realised that was not the correct prioritization of tasks — and turn their phones back on. 

“Shit, Canucks called,” Bryce says. “And my mom like a billion times.”

“Call the Canucks,” Jared says. Elaine will absolutely understand.

Bryce tucks his dress shirt back in as he calls them back, drifting down the hall and then returning before Jared can start going through the ridiculous amount of missed calls and texts.

“Foster wants to talk to you?” Bryce says.

Jared takes the phone.

“Hi Jared,” Foster says. 

“Hi,” Jared says.

“Was a little taken aback to hear from your husband’s agent out of the blue saying he had an offer I couldn’t refuse,” Foster says.

“Surprise?” Jared says.

Foster laughs. “Uh, yeah,” he says. “Surprise. Congratulations on the trade.”

“Great trade,” Jared says. “Marcus has a ton of offensive upside. We um. We just turned our phones back on. Is Calgary still like — standing?”

“Not sure, but Vancouver’s celebrating, so I don’t really care,” Foster says. “Can you put Bryce back on?”

Jared hands the phone back to Bryce, considers looking at twitter on his own. Decides that would be a bad idea. Good thing the fans don’t know where Bryce lives or there’d probably be like, a mob forming outside their building right now.

He goes into their room to give Bryce some privacy with their GM — _their_ GM, which is fucking weird and amazing. He scrolls through his messages and missed calls — Chaz’s _hahahahahahaha_ makes Jared think he’s still a little bitter about the trade — and decides to call his dad, because he’s called the most times.

His dad answers the phone like the auditory version of Chaz’s text, laughing before Jared says a word.

“You tell Bryce he has the biggest brass balls I’ve ever seen,” his dad says. “And to call his mom because Elaine’s been trying to get ahold of him for an hour.”

“Sorry,” Jared says. “We turned our phones off to avoid the um—”

“Shitstorm?” dad asks.

“Yeah,” Jared says. “He’s on the phone with our GM, I’ll call her.”

“Your GM,” dad says, clearly struck by the same thing. “How’re you feeling bud?”

“Fucking elated,” Jared says, and for once his dad’s not scolding him for swearing. “I’ll call you back? I should call Elaine.”

“Call your mom after you call Elaine, she’ll want to laugh too,” dad says.

“Jared!” Elaine says, picking up on the first ring. “How did you keep this a secret!”

She sounds like, impressed, not accusatory.

“I didn’t,” Jared says. “Bryce didn’t tell me until today.”

“How’d he keep this a secret?” Elaine says, now sounding completely incredulous.

“Hidden depths, apparently,” Jared says. Hit a well of close-lipped he’s never hit with Jared, another well of ruthlessness Jared didn’t know he was capable of.

It’s kind of hot, honestly.

“He’s on the phone with our GM, you’ll be the first one he calls,” Jared says. “He just wanted to talk it through with me before we started to get slammed with calls and stuff.”

“No hurry!” Elaine says. “You know you both have to have dinner with me at least once a week.”

Jared laughs. “Looking forward to it.”

He’s got a next text when he gets off the phone with her, _Stephen has not stopped laughing since we found out. Legit is going to make himself puke. Imagine you’re slammed right now but give us a call when you get a minute?_

Jared grins down at it, sends him a double thumbs up. He’s got to call his mom first.

Mom laughs when he calls her. So does Erin, apparently, when Bryce calls her. All Mathesons united on this one. Jared’s a little surprised his dad isn’t annoyed on the Flames’ behalf, but he’s been noticeably torn since everyone started shitting on Bryce. Seems to have landed on Bryce’s side in the end, which was a surprise, but a good one. Jared isn’t going to spare a single solitary iota of concern for the Flames, who come out of this looking like dupes. But they’re going to be pissed. And it’s going to be aimed Bryce’s way.

“They’re going to boo you,” Jared says.

“I know,” Bryce says.

“Not just the first time,” Jared says. “They’re probably going to do it for years. They might do it for the rest of your career.”

Bryce shrugs. “I know.”

“You’re okay with that?” Jared says.

Bryce shrugs again. “It’s going to suck,” he says. “I’m probably going to feel like shit. But like. I get to play for my hometown team, and live with you all year round, and be near my mom and my grandparents and it’s like — it’s worth it, so. Whatever I have to deal with, I’ll deal with. Plus like, it’s nice knowing going in that it won’t be a shitty room. Because if it was a shitty room you would have bitched about it. Hell, you bitched about the Oilers’ room being _nice_.”

“Well,” Jared says. Fair. Stupid Darryl Rogers being a nice guy and welcoming him kindly. “Dmitry—”

“Sounds like a totally normal dude, you just hate everyone,” Bryce says.

This is also probably fair.

“He pied my face,” Jared says. “Twice.”

“On your birthday,” Bryce says. “With shaving cream. Which is a _tradition_.”

“He pied my face,” Jared mutters.

“No one ever pied mine,” Bryce says quietly, which is the saddest statement ever. Except.

“You have a summer birthday!” Jared says, and Bryce’s grin is all teeth.

“Just wait,” Jared says. “You’re going to be fucking pied on your birthday this year.”

Bryce smirks.

“Don’t say it,” Jared warns.

“I’m gonna say it,” Bryce says.

“Do not,” Jared says. “If you do celebratory sex is off the table.”

“Want to rail me in your Canucks jersey?” Bryce asks.

Jared doesn’t _not_ want that, and Bryce appears pretty confident about that, since he’s already unbuttoning his shirt and heading for their bedroom. Jared’s tempted to wait a minute before he follows, but like — Bryce’s confidence in that is warranted and Jared isn’t going to cheat himself of some no doubt terrific celebratory sex out of spite.

Canucks blue really brings out Bryce’s eyes. It’s like, stunning, how beautiful they look.

“Less talk about my eyes, more getting your dick in me,” Bryce says.

“You are the bossiest fucking bottom in the entire world,” Jared says. “I’m trying to pay you a _compliment_.”

Bryce opens his mouth, probably to demand less compliments, more dick, so Jared’s obligated to kiss him quiet.

“We’ll get a new apartment,” Jared murmurs when he’s sinking into him. “Like, big and bright, whenever the sun’s actually out, and we’ll have the stupid wall so anyone who walks in the door knows it’s ours.”

“Okay, do _not_ shut up right now,” Bryce says, lashes brushing his cheeks, and Jared grins, sneaks a kiss behind his ear, which always makes him shiver.

“It’s going to be so much sexier to watch you play when you’re playing for my team,” Jared murmurs. “Gonna have to figure out how not to be fucking obvious on the bench how fucking hot it gets me.”

Bryce’s fingers are digging into his shoulders hard enough to bruise, and he’s going to be chirped like hell in training for those fingerprint bruises, but he doesn’t care. Doesn’t care that the crest of the jersey’s rough, chafing his skin, doesn’t care about anything except that Bryce’s eyes are closed, and Jared wants to look at him. 

“Look at me?” Jared says, and when Bryce does, his eyes are so fucking blue.

“Vancouver,” Jared says, and tastes the grin that spills across Bryce’s face in response.


End file.
